Sherlolly MARCHmallows
by ValeriaAnne
Summary: 7 celebrations for 7 days of "Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2019"
1. Bad day turns good

**Day 1**

* * *

**_"So, bad day, was it?"_** Sherlock murmurs, kneading's Molly's shoulders gently. They are both lying on the couch in 221B, Molly is nestled between Sherlock's spread legs, and her back is lying comfortably on his chest.

"One of the worst ever." Molly sighs deeply as Sherlock massages her strained neck.

"Tough autopsies?"

"Tough boring meetings." Molly answers, running her fingertips on Sherlock's right knee.

Sherlock chuckles lightly, placing a kiss on Molly's neck, before she quickly squirms away from him.

"No, wait, Sherlock. I am sweaty and dirty." Molly protests, trying to get up.

"Mmm, smells nice enough to me." Sherlock says, keeping her in his embrace, preventing her haste escape and burying his nose in the crook of her neck, teasing her tired skin.

"I don't mean that." Molly teases, though she couldn't stop the breathy moan that escapes her lips as Sherlock bits her earlobe lightly. "Sherlock?"

Mmm?" Sherlock mumbles, engrossed in his own actions.

"I need to take a shower."

Sherlock abruptly stops what he was happily doing and grins, "Can I join?"

Molly turns her head to look at him, then raises an eyebrow before saying, "It depends."

Sherlock slightly frowns, "On what?"

"On what we plan to do after the shower." Molly says, biting her lip and touching his own with her fingertip.

Sherlock takes her fingertip in his mouth, sucking it gently then releases it with a pop sound before replying, "Anything you want."

Molly turns her body fully to face Sherlock, "Anything? Sure?"

"Scout's honour." comes his quick reply.

"Good." Molly answers with a mischievous smile. Before Sherlock could utter another syllable, she quickly leaves his arms, gets up from the couch. She pops the first 2 buttons of her blouse before leaning forward to pop 2 more from Sherlock's own shirt (The aubergine shirt, no less) gazing into his eyes and firmly saying, "**_We will start with the riding crop."_**

And Sherlock's breath hitches. Now he knows, he is going to enjoy his night with Dom Molly. His beautiful mistress. His beautiful wife.


	2. Naughty William

Day 2

* * *

After a quick shower they shared together, Molly practically orders Sherlock to head straight to their bedroom and wait for her.

"But I want to stay here with you." Sherlock murmurs softly, locking his arms around Molly's naked waist and peppering her wet neck with kisses.

They are standing in the bathroom, fresh from a quick _innocent_ shower, thanks to Molly no less. Sherlock is still frustrated because the shower was _only_ a shower, and now he is more frustrated, but still quite excited, as Molly literally shoves him out of the bathroom and confines him to their bedroom until she gets ready.

"Get your scarf. Go to the bedroom. Wrap the black silk blindfold around your eyes. Hands above your head. Wait for me." Molly says, pushing Sherlock's arms away from her body.

"But…" Sherlock whines.

"You promised me; anything" Molly quirks an eyebrow playfully.

Sherlock narrows his eyes before saying quietly "Yes, madam". Then he turns around towards the bathroom door.

_Slap!_

"Ouch!" Sherlock shouts, quickly putting his hand on the bruised butt skin and turning angrily to face Molly.

"What was that for?" he yells.

"You didn't address me properly." Molly says, lifting her chin.

Sherlock takes a deep breath then says, "Sorry, mistress."

Molly dismisses him with a wave of her hand, "You are forgiven…for now."

10 minutes later, naked Molly leaves the bathroom, her hair and body dried. She walks to the bedroom, opens the door and steps inside. She is greeted by Sherlock's naked body, sprawled on his back on their king size bed, blindfolded by the black silk blindfold that he actually bought for her when they started their roleplay routine, and his blue scarf is lying next to him.

"Mistress?" Sherlock asks, turning his head towards the direction of the door. Molly walks to the bed, picks up the scarf, and silently ties it around Sherlock wrists that he obediently placed above his head. Next, he hears the soft sound of the riding crop being dragged across the floor as Molly bends to pick it from under the bed, and then there is nothing. He tries to locate her position but he can't hear anything. Suddenly, the bedframe is slightly shaken as Molly answers him by hitting the wooden frame with the crop.

"You have been very naughty lately, William." Molly purrs, standing on Sherlock's left side, near the bedframe. She can hear his breath hitch as he hears his first name.

Then, Molly starts dragging the crop's tip across Sherlock's face; cheeks, temple, forehead, nose, then rests it on his plush lips.

"Everyone at Barts is complaining about your behaviour." She continues, still pressing the tip of the crop across his lips.

"Everyone?" Sherlock asks.

_Slap!_

"Ah!" he cries and feels a sting in his left arm. Molly hits him with the crop on his arm, not hard though. None of them enjoys painful foreplay, but they both now master balancing pain with pleasure, a combination they discovered their passion for, leading them to making a routine out of their roleplays.

"Did I allow you to speak?" Molly asks quietly.

Sherlock takes a deep breath then answers in a lower voice, "No, mistress."

"Next time, it will be harder." she says, as she touches his left arm with her fingertips before she moves to stand near the middle of the bed, lowering the riding crop to Sherlock's lower abdomen, and keeps talking casually, "Having connections in Barts doesn't mean you can annoy other people. What do you have to say to that?"

"They are idiots." Sherlock breathes, now the crop's tip is lying at the base of his cock.

"Are they now?" Molly asks amusingly as she moves her arm in small circles now, gliding the tip of the crop along the length of Sherlock's cock that is getting harder thanks to the light touches that tingle his sensitive skin mercilessly.

"Do you know that I had to stand up for you in today's meeting?" Molly said, moving the crop to rest on the top of Sherlock's cock that is standing fully erect now, then starts moving it in small circles around the smooth tip.

"I am sorry, mistress." Sherlock says, his breaths shaky.

Molly huffs and says "Are you sure you are?"

Sherlock swallows before mumbling, "No."

Molly suddenly removes the crop and leans forward to grab Sherlock's cock in her strong grip.

"Oh, fuck. Damn, Molly." Sherlock shouts, overwhelmed by the sudden touch he has been craving since they were in the shower together. The light touches of the crop over his sensitive private parts was so tingling and left him craving for a real touch. Skin to skin.

"Is that a way to address your mistress, William?" Molly asks firmly, still holding his cock in her hand but not making a single move.

Sherlock squirms under her, craving the friction. Silently asking her to move her hand. To do anything.

"You always such horrible things." Molly teases.

"I am sorry. Forgive me." Sherlock says quickly, his breaths getting shallower.

Molly raises her other hand, the one holding the riding crop, and lands it across his other thigh, still holding his cock without making a move.

"Aaaah! I am sorry, mistress. Forgive me, mistress." Sherlock yelps, writhing under her touch and needing more.

Molly removes the crop, throws it on the floor with a thud, and then leans on Sherlock until her mouth is near his left ear and whispers, "Is this too much? Should we stop?"

Underneath the quiet whisper, Sherlock can sense Molly's concern for him. She always stops to make sure he is fine and still willing to continue their game. She asks the question calmly, as she starts stroking his cock softly with her hand.

"I am fine. Continue." Sherlock whispers back, enjoying the gentle strokes and hoping for more.

Molly places a quick kiss on his temple before she leans back giving his cock one hard stroke that makes Sherlock arch his back at the sudden and unexpected move, then she removes her hand before standing up and speaking firmly, "So far so good, William. Now, time for the next part."

_And Mistress Molly is back!_

* * *

TBC...


	3. M for Magnificent Mum

**Day 3**

* * *

"_**Are you okay? And don't just say you are."**_

Sherlock was pulled from his thoughts by the voice of his mother who placed her hand on his shoulder, offering him a mug of tea with her other hand.

Sherlock was standing by the window near the fireplace, looking through it to the vast spaces of green lands that surrounded the cozy country house of Sherlock's parents. Despite refusing his parents nearly every time they wanted him to spend more time in their home, this time, Sherlock didn't even wait for an invitation to stay over for a few days. Not now. Not after Eurus.

Sherlock sighed deeply before taking the steaming mug from his mother's hand, muttering a soft 'thank you' and returning his gaze to watch the flock of birds flying across the pale blue sky.

"I am still waiting for an answer, Sherlock." Violet urged him gently.

Sherlock took a sip from the hot beverage, enjoying the taste and willing to postpone the conversation for as long as he could. But, he knew his mother too well; she wouldn't stop before she says everything she wants to say and hears everything she needs to hear.

"We will be okay, Mum." he replied, still looking through the large window.

"I am asking about you, not us."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't leave his throat, instead he took another generous sip of his tea and shut his eyes tightly.

"Sherlock?" Violet said in a soothing voice, rubbing his shoulder with her palm in a motherly way.

"I don't know what to do, and I hate-" Sherlock whispered, taking a shuddering breath.

"-And you hate not knowing." Violet finished for him, giving him a warm smile.

"You know me very well." Sherlock said, a small yet genuine smile on his face.

"Of course I do." A pause, then, "But I am not the only one, Sherlock."

_Silence._

"Don't lose her, Sherlock." Violet firmly told him, squeezing his shoulder, urging him to listen. Urging him to see.

"I am not sure she still wants to keep me." Sherlock said, defeated.

Violet sighed audibly then said, "I have never met this Molly dear of yours, but I have heard quite a lot about her from you, Myc, Mrs. Hudson and even John."

_Another moment of silence._

"It looks like she has been around for a very long time. If she wanted to leave, she would have been at the other side of the earth by now." Violet said, matter-of-factly.

"You don't know-"

"Of course I do." Violet interrupted him, waving her hand in a dismissive way. Sherlock rubbed his forehead with his palm tiredly.

"I may or may not be many things," she continued, "but I am a woman. And only a woman knows how exactly another woman thinks."

Sherlock took another shuddering breath, "I haven't gone to see her since…since what happened. I couldn't. Mycroft and John were generous enough to explain things to her on my behalf."

Violet seemed to be in deep thought, then she said, "Well, that's not an ideal situation. But, if what I have heard about her is true, I would like to believe that she is giving you space and time."

"And what if she just gave up on me?" Sherlock asked his mother, his voice a little childish, a little vulnerable.

Violet chuckled softly, still rubbing his shoulder soothingly, "Oh, Sherlock! And what if she didn't? How would you know? How would you ever know if all you do is hiding here and doing nothing?"

"Hiding here? You practically fight with me….." Sherlock shouted, turning fully to face his mother.

Violet quickly cupped her son's cheeks. Cheeks that were too prominent to be healthy.

_Maybe I should urge him to eat more._

"I love when you and your brother stay here with us. And if I could, I would bring Eurus home, too. But right now, nothing can make me happier than seeing you happy. And no matter how hard you try to hide it, you are not happy here. Not when you are buried in your thoughts not knowing what she thinks of you. Not when you are willingly drowning yourself in the realm of endless possibilities and what ifs."

Sherlock sighed deeply and said nothing, casting his eyes downwards.

"And you hate not knowing, don't you?" Violet continued, smiling at her son.

A knowing smile creeped to Sherlock's face and he lifted his eyes to gaze at his mother's similar ones.

"You are right, Mum. I hate not knowing."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go. Now." Violet happily said.

As if struck by lightning, Sherlock suddenly placed his mug on the wooden table by the window, then he turned around his mother, making a beeline towards the house's main door, picking his belstaff from the coat rack and digging his hands inside the pockets of Mycroft's coat.

"Sherlock!" Violet cried, scolding her younger son.

"Tell Mycroft I burrowed his car." Sherlock turned to his mother with a wink, holding the elegant black key in his hand.

"You naughty boy!" Violet chided, though she couldn't keep the big smile off her face.

Sherlock turned to leave the house, then he stopped, turning again to face his mother. He stared at her for a few seconds before he silently walked to stand in front of her, then he leaned and planted a gentle yet firm kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you." Sherlock murmured against his mother's hair, smiling.

"You are more than welcome." Violet replied, hugging him lightly before letting him go. Sherlock turned around again and sprinted towards the door.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks, glancing at his mother questionably.

"_**For the sake of law and order, I suggest that you avoid all future attempts at a relationship."**_ Violet said seriously.

Sherlock frowned, then raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Any relationship other than with Molly, of course." she continued teasingly. "You will not want to fight me, young man, because I will definitely choose her side."

Sherlock grinned and before she knew it, he was already out the door running to Mycroft's car.


	4. Down the Memory Lane

_**Day 4**_

* * *

"Nana, please tell us the story again." William begged.

"Will, I have just told you the story last night." Molly said, smiling at her eldest grandchild.

"Please, please, please, nana." said William, now joined by his sister and their little cousin, the 9-month old baby lying in the baby carriage who just kept babbling not knowing what the people around him are saying, but decided to join them nonetheless.

Molly and Sherlock were now living in the country house Sherlock inherited from his parents. Their children resided in London but came to visit every two weeks. Molly was sitting in the living room, on the plush couch and surrounded by her grandchildren. William, the eldest, was a spitting image of his paternal grandfather Sherlock Holmes. One of the things he inherited from his grandfather was his obsession with nearly everything that caught his eyes and attention, and William's new obsession was "the life story of nana Molly and grandpa Sherlock."

"Please, nana. One more time." 8-year old William repeated, quite excitedly.

"Yes, nana, please." Maria, his younger sister followed.

"Yes, nana. Please. We do enjoy when you tell us the story." A familiar voice interrupted the younger ones and Sherlock appeared at the door, holding his beekeeping mask in one hand, and with his other hand two yellow flowers.

"Who are the flowers for, grandpa?" asked Maria, running to greet her grandfather who placed the mask against the wall.

"One for my little princess." he smiled to his granddaughter, offering her one of the flowers. Maria picked it, then threw her little arms around her grandfather's hips shouting, "Thank you, grandpa. It's so beautiful."

Sherlock chuckled softly, patting her head gently with his free hand. "What about the other flower?" Maria asked curiously, raising her head to look at her grandfather.

"Now the other flower is for nana" Sherlock said, looking at Molly, "But only if she tells us the story."

"Yes. Yes. Tell us. Tell us." William turned his head back to Molly. And was soon joined by both Maria and Sherlock who walked to the near-by armchair and sat on it, picking Maria up and placing her on his lap. The three of them soon turned into a chorus, repeating, "Tell us. Tell us." And Molly couldn't find it in her heart to deny them. She raised her hands in a surrendering gesture and said, "Alright, alright. I will tell you."

* * *

_Sometime later_

"_**So, did you really get grandpa off a murder charge?"**_ asked William, his eyes wide, as if he was hearing the story for the first time, not the hundredth at least.

"No, William, of course not." Molly said, laughing.

She was telling them about the story of the Reichenbach Falls, when Sherlock was framed for kidnapping and murder by James Moriarty.

"He didn't do it, of course." Molly continued, "But he was accused of murder and needed help to prove his innocence because the real criminal was really smart, despite being evil."

"So you did actually get him off a murder charge." William insisted.

Molly sighed and said nothing, instead looking at Sherlock and smiling knowingly.

"There was no murder charge, William, and please refrain from accusing me when I am sitting right here with you." Sherlock said, raising his eyebrow, though deep inside, he was proud of his grandson. Not for accusing him of murder, of course, but for wanting to know everything and understand everything. He was truly going to be the world's next consulting detective. The new William Sherlock Siger Holmes.

_A chip off the old block. The grand-old block in that case._

"What about the other part, grandpa?" asked Maria, turning her eyes to her grandfather.

_Well, that was truly what a granddaughter of Molly should be like. The innocent face and chocolate-brown dreamy eyes. Always more interested in the romantic parts of the story, though she was only 7 years old._

Sherlock acted like he was thinking deeply, "Which part do you mean?"

"The part where you ask for nana's help." answered Maria softly.

"Oh, that one." Sherlock smiled warmly, raising his eyes to look at Molly, who was watching him intently.

Silently, Sherlock picked Maria up and placed her on the floor on her feet, then got up from his chair. He slowly walked to where Molly sat, surrounded by their two other grandchildren, then he dropped to one knee beside his wife, and GOD that was painful!

_Damn, I am not a young man anymore._

Sherlock took Molly's hand in his, kissing it softly before starting, "I waited for her in the lab, I couldn't forget the look on her face or the tone of her voice when she said that she didn't count."

That was the children's favourite part; where Sherlock or Molly would recite some pieces of the story and sort of replay the scenes themselves.

Sherlock continued, "I kept thinking '_How could my Molly think for even a moment that she doesn't count?_'"

Sherlock was gazing at his wife's eyes, who was gazing at his in return. Both of them didn't notice that Maria moved closed to sit next to her brother on the couch.

Sherlock brushed Molly's knuckles with his thumb and continued, "So, I waited for her in the lab and…"

"And startled me in the dark." Molly interrupted, raising her eyebrow and smirking lightly and teasing him.

"Um, yes, well…sorry about that." Sherlock said sheepishly.

"Forgiven." She replied, smiling warmly.

Sherlock took a deep breath, still stroking Molly's hand, "Then I approached her slowly, pouring my heart out, telling her that she has always counted and that I have always trusted her."

"And then?" Maria urged, getting more excited as they were getting closer to her favourite part.

Molly leaned forward, squeezing her husband's hand.

"What do you need?" she repeated the same words she said earnestly over 35 years ago.

"_**If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?"**_

"What do you need?" Molly repeated in a whisper.

"You."

And without a second thought, Sherlock leaned forward and captured Molly's lips in a gentle kiss. Well, as gentle as it could be in front of the young audience.

"Awwww!" both William and Maria yelled, covering their eyes with their little hands.

Molly broke the kiss first, smiling at Sherlock, then she turned to her grandchildren and said, "Well, now that you got your story, time for lunch. Go wash your hands. Off you pop." Molly said to her grandchildren.

William and Maria obediently stood up from the couch and walked outside the living room, whispering to each other about the story they just heard and discussing which story should they demand next. Nana Molly and Grandpa Sherlock had so many stories of their own.

Sherlock stood up from his crouching position as slowly as his knees and back could allow him and eased himself beside Molly on the couch, glancing at his youngest grandson who was now sleeping soundly in his baby carriage.

"Your flower." Sherlock said, offering the yellow flower to Molly, who accepted it whispering a soft 'thank you' before resting her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a few moments before Sherlock finally said, "By the way, when I said I needed you just a couple of minutes ago, I actually meant it.", Sherlock said with a wink, then wiggled his eyebrows, smirking.

"Sherlock!" Molly scolded, though she couldn't keep the wide grin off her face and couldn't fight the sudden urge to lean forward and capture her husband's lips in a deep kiss.

Sherlock and Molly had a long and happy life together, filled with good and bad times, and despite being old of age, their hearts were still as young as the first day they have met.


	5. A friend in need

_**Day 5**_

* * *

"So, have you finally decided? This has taken too much time already."

Oh, how much he has missed this voice. Her voice.

_Mary. My beloved friend Mary._

Sherlock turned around from facing the window of 221B living room to find Mary sitting in John's chair, wearing a playful smile.

"Well, what can you see? It's been over two weeks and I still can't choose." he pouted like the man-child he was.

Mary bit her lip trying to suppress the grin that threatened to escape, but even the former assassin couldn't fully control her facial emotions.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and murmured, "Traitor", causing Mary to chuckle loudly.

_If only she were truly here._

Sherlock sighed dramatically, walking to the couch and throwing himself on it, face down. "I think I am going to die." he said in his deep voice, not so deep since it was partially muffled by the couch's pillow.

"If you keep doing that, _**you are most certainly going to die, so we need to focus**_." Mary chuckled again, teasing her friend.

Quietly, Sherlock lifted himself up, then moved to sit opposite of her, on his leather chair. He sat down carefully, as if afraid moving too fast would make her disappear.

"You know that you need to decide, sooner better than later." Mary tilted her head.

"Well, I want to get her the best ring in the whole world." Sherlock mumbled, then he dug his right hand into the pocket of his blue gown, retrieving a small box.

"That's good. But, what's wrong with the ring you got her?" Mary said, pointing to the black velvet box that Sherlock was now protectively holding in his hands as if his whole life depended on it.

"But what if Molly doesn't like it?" he said in a small voice, staring at the box.

"Maybe she will." Mary shrugged.

"And maybe she will not." Sherlock replied, raising his blue eyes to meet Mary's, his voice a little higher.

Mary shook her head incredulously, "Sherlock, dear, Molly would love anything you get her. You might as well get her a plastic ring from Rosie's Barbie collection and she would proudly wear it every single day."

Sherlock bit his lip, lost in his own thoughts for a few moments before saying, "It's vintage. I got it from my mother. It was my paternal grandmother's wedding ring." Then he raised his eyes again to look at Mary, "What if she wants a new one?"

Mary silently motioned for him to open the box so that she could take another look at the ring. She craned her neck to look closely, "It is beautiful."

Sherlock continued as if he didn't hear her, "I gave it to the family jeweler, he cleaned it and re-sized it, but still, what if….?"

Mary arched her eyebrow and firmly said, "Ask that question one more time and I will just disappear. Good luck finding me in the endless maze you dare to call _'mind palace'_"

"Don't insult my mind palace." Sherlock yelled, feeling offended.

"Or what?" Mary teased.

Sherlock and shook his head and sighed deeply. "I have hurt her so many times."

"Don't you always do that?" Mary said quietly. Sherlock frowned at her.

Mary raised her hand in a mock placating gesture, "Don't be angry with me. I represent your own thoughts. I am only saying what you believe you have done."

Sherlock rested his head on the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling, "Yes, you are right." _Silence._ "I kept pushing her to her limits and expecting her to stay by my side forever but it's only selfish."

"You are a very selfish man, indeed." Mary teased again. "But she forgave you, Sherlock. Both of you have gone a long way since then. For God's sake, you are buying her an engagement ring and planning to propose and you are still wondering?!"

"Yes, I know but I sometimes I feel I don't deserve that. Her." Sherlock suddenly shouted, raking his left hand through his hair, holding the velvet box tightly with his right hand.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked at her but said nothing.

Mary leaned forward, clasping her hands together, and quietly said, "It's not wrong to be afraid to mess up. It means you care enough for Molly to not want to hurt her, but be careful and don't waste your time thinking about the what-ifs. Live the moment, Sherlock. It's gone before you know it." Mary chuckled, though a lone tear descended her face.

Sherlock mimicked Mary's posture, leaning forward in his chair, "I am glad you are here, Mary."

"Me, too." She quickly replied.

"_**But you can't do this again, can you?" **_he asked, his voice laced with pain and longing for his friend.

Mary giggled, trying to loosen up the tension, "Well, you can't summon me whenever you are in trouble. I am you. I only tell you what you already know."

"God, Mary, I miss you." Sherlock whispered, then continued, "We all miss you."

"I miss you, too. All of you." Mary said, taking a shuddering breath.

"You are always here with us, Mary, even if you are….."

"I know, Sherlock. I know."

Silence stretched for a minute before Mary suddenly shouted quite excitedly, "Now, back to the matter at hand; Molly."

Sherlock sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his free hand.

"Show me the ring again." Mary urged. "Come on."

Sherlock obediently opened the velvet box so Mary could take another peek.

"It's really lovely, Sherlock." She said warmly.

"But what if..."

"Stop overthinking." Mary ordered firmly.

Sherlock stared at the ring, lying innocently in the box.

"Go to her, Sherlock."

Sherlock raised his head to smile at his friend, and softly said, "Thank you, Mary."

"Anytime." Then she furrowed, "Well, not anytime. I mean you are not really going to come back later asking my opinion for proposing to another woman. You don't want the ghost of a former assassin to haunt you. Even BIG BROTHER can't protect you from that." Mary winked with a grin and Sherlock chuckled.

Mary stood up, clasping her hands in front of her, "Now go. Spend the currency well."

Without a thought, Sherlock stood up and extended his hand to touch hers, but in a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Sherlock took a deep breath, swallowing, before turning to the door, taking off his blue gown and slipping his belstaff on. He took a few moments to calm his breaths. Seeing Mary would always do that to him. Then, a determined look invaded his face and he slipped the velvet box into his left breast pocket.

"Here I come, future Mrs. Holmes." he mumbled to himself before heading outside.


	6. Human Emotions

_**Day 6**_

* * *

"_**No idea why people believe you are incapable of human emotion."**_

These were the first words that Sherlock uttered to Eurus since he came through the door that led to her cell in Sherrinford. Their biweekly meetings were quite the same. He would bring his new violin and as soon as he started playing she would join him with the violin he brought to her on his first visit with their parents. They didn't usually exchange words. Well, to be more accurate, _he _never said anything. She wasn't speaking anymore, anyway. So, they silently agreed to communicate through music. So far, this was the only way of communication that could reach her.

"Actually, I believe you are quite capable, Eurus." Sherlock continued. Eurus was standing on the other side of the glass. Her face plain, her body still. She was just looking at him.

"You just happen to only know negative emotions; anger, despair, fury, aggression." He stopped, then took a deep breath, "Sadness and loneliness".

Eurus blinked once.

"All this time since our first meeting here, I kept revisiting our encounter."

_Silence._

"Despite all the violent acts you did, I believe you were driven by your emotions." Sherlock said, furrowing his brows in confusion. Then he raised his eyes to meet hers, "Uncontrolled. But still, they are _your_ emotions."

Eurus took a deep breath, but other that, she was as motionless as a statue.

"I also believe that when you forced Molly and I and expose each other so brutally, you were driven by emotions." Sherlock spoke, suddenly turning to place his violin in its case that rested on a near-by chair, not wanting to look at his sister while talking. Somehow, remembering that day was still painful to him.

"I believe it was love. An unusual kind of love." he continued, closing the lid of the violin's case, busying his fingers with the lock. He sighed soundly before slowly turning again to face Eurus, "You wanted me to see what I was missing."

A twitch in the hand holding the bow. That was the only sign that Eurus was actually listening and hasn't gone catatonic again.

"By the way, that is Molly's interpretation, not mine." Sherlock shrugged, trying to act like he hasn't just confessed his thoughts to her.

"She believes that behind all of that, you are still the little sister who only wanted to play with her brother. You only sought attention and company." Sherlock said in a lower voice, suddenly feeling a bit guilty, though he knew it was unreasonable.

Another deep breath from Eurus.

"Molly likes to believe that you did that to us as a kind of tribute, for forcing me to abandon and disregard any signs of emotions or attachments after what you…..after Victor was gone."

Eurus turned and walked slowly to place the violin and bow on her table. Sherlock patiently waited, but she didn't turn again to face him. He could only see her profile. Suddenly, Sherlock realized that maybe, just maybe, his words were starting to reach her.

"She believes you were only trying to make amends for taking these feelings from me." he continued, his tone is hopeful.

"Honestly, I don't know what to believe. And I hate not knowing."

He swore he could see the outline of a smile on her face, but he wasn't sure.

"But Molly always sees the best in everything and everyone." he said, smiling himself. With that, Eurus turned completely to face him, but made no further moves.

"She believes that although the act was cruel, at least it got us to be together now." he said matter-of-factly.

Silence stretched as the Holmes siblings gazed at each other openly. Their faces were plain. But, their eyes were expressive. With every passing moment, Sherlock was surer that he was starting to reach his lost sister. So, as a last attempt:

"I have already proposed." he blurted.

This time, he was almost sure he saw another faint smile on his sister's face. He could only hope.

He smiled back, "I have learned my lesson. A lesson you, so harshly, taught me. I am not about to lose her again."

Eurus tilted her head slightly to the left. Not in confusion. But it looked like she was regarding her brother. Like she was seeing him in a new light. Sherlock couldn't help but smile again, before he turned to pick up his violin's case and head straight to the door.

"I will see you soon, Eurus." he glanced behind his shoulder, throwing a wink to his sister, before disappearing behind the big door.

Sherlock was home by 10:30 PM. When he opened the door to his flat, he was greeted by Molly, who was sitting on the couch reading a book. As soon as she laid her eyes on him, she got up quickly and went to hug him tightly, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She knew much these visits are tough for him.

Silently, Molly took the violin's case from his hand, placed it by the wall, then urged Sherlock to take off his belstaff and jacket and hung them on the coat rack. Then, without saying a word, she caught his hand and walked him to the couch. They both sat next to each other, and Molly pushed Sherlock's head gently to let it rest on her shoulder.

"How was it?" she mumbled, combing his hair with her fingers and enjoying the feeling of his breaths on her neck.

"As usual." he replied curtly. Molly could sense that he didn't want to talk. So, she opted to offer him some comfort by massaging his scalp the way he always enjoyed. A while later, Molly could feel that he was more relaxed but she still didn't push. But, Sherlock was the first to break the silence.

"I told her. About us." he elaborated as he touched her right hand with his, rubbing the ring that rested in her middle finger. "About this."

Molly swallowed, not stopping her soothing movements, then she asked, "Did she….respond in any kind?"

Sherlock raised his head from Molly's shoulder and looked into her eyes, "I would like to believe that there was a smile on her face. Hopefully it wasn't a grimace."

Molly chuckled, then she raised her hand to touch Sherlock's face, and said worriedly. _**"I am worried about you Sherlock, You seem stressed".**_

"I am not stressed. I am just…." then he stopped to take a breath, "I am just starting to see things differently. Remembering all the buried memories and knowing she did what she did, but also knowing that maybe I could have helped her…"

"You are helping her."

"But back then…"

Molly interrupted him firmly, "Back then you were only a child. Both of you were." She held his face with both her hands, urging him to stop blaming himself, "We can't know if there's anyone we could blame for Eurus's condition. I don't think your family was responsible. Maybe they just weren't prepared for her. And maybe that is what she is meant to be; a proper genius who can't understand life and life can't tolerate her."

Sherlock bit his lower lip, knowing that Molly was right. She continued, "But I do believe that Eurus knows that she is loved. Loved by you, by Mycroft and your parents. And for the time being, I think that's what's important."

Sherlock smiled at Molly, raising his hands to mimic her and held her face in his hands, "How are you going to cope with my family? We are apparently a group of messed up people."

Molly took her hands off his face and smacked his arm playfully, "Hey! Your parents are so lovely."

"Yes, and look what monsters they got as children." Sherlock laughed, leaning to place a chaste kiss on her soft lips.

Molly rested her forehead on his, breathing his scent and enjoying being close to him before she whispered, "Are you sure you really want to do that?"

"Of course." he answered quickly, touching her engagement ring with his fingers again.

"Okay" Molly whispered, her lips touching his in a tender kiss. Then, she leaned backwards to look into his face properly, "You don't have to fight the world on your own anymore, Sherlock. You have me. You always have and you always will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."


	7. Love at first heartbeat

**_Day 7_**

* * *

His phone barely rang twice before he answered.

"Molly?" Sherlock said automatically, his mind immersed in the mystery of the crime scene he was currently inspecting with Lestrade.

"You need to come home." she answered in a hurry.

"Molly?" Sherlock repeated in confusion, his mind and body frozen by her quick and unexpected request.

"Come home. Now." Molly repeated, slightly out of breath.

Sherlock couldn't help the wave of panic that suddenly hit him, "Molly, are you alright?"

"Um, yes, Yes. I am fine. Just…just come home." she said hesitantly.

Alright, Panic is totally hitting him now.

"Darling, you are scaring me. What is wrong?" Sherlock shouted frantically, already turning away from the crime scene, ignoring Lestrade, and heading towards the main street to catch a cab.

He could clearly hear Molly swallowing nervously before she said, "Nothing is wrong. Just come home, please."

"Alright, alright. I am heading home now. But, please, tell me what's happening. What is going on? Are you hurt?"

No response.

"Molly? Why do you need me to come home now?" Sherlock shouted in frustration, not knowing what was happening.

"_**It's very important, I can't say why, but I promise you it is."**_ Molly said quietly. "Don't worry, I am fine, but I really need you to be here now."

"Alright. I am on my way." Sherlock said, already hopping into a cab.

"Okay. Bye."

"No, don't go. Just keep talking to me." he shouted in full panic.

And that's how they spent the next 25 minutes until Sherlock arrived at 221B Baker Street.

* * *

"Molly?" Sherlock yelled, practically kicking the front door of his flat. His eyes quickly scanned the living room and the kitchen looking for his wife, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Molly?" he called again, walking down the corridor that led to their bedroom. As soon as he reached the bedroom's door, Sherlock slowly pushed the door that was already ajar to reveal the bedroom. His eyes quickly found Molly sitting in the middle of their bed, surrounded by a dozen of….. Pregnancy Test packages?!

"I bought them all." Molly quietly declared, without looking at him.

Slowly, Sherlock walked to sit on the edge of the bed, next to her. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop beating so strongly. Gently, he picked up Molly's right hand. A hand that was holding one of the pregnancy tests.

"What? Bought what?" Sherlock asked in a voice he hoped was steady and calm enough to not startle her. He knew the question was quite naive, given the fact that she was clearly talking about the 10 pregnancy tests scattered around his wife, surrounding her.

Exactly 10 pregnancy tests. All positive. Now that he looked a little closely.

_How? Is this….?_

Molly's soft voice cut through his thoughts, "I didn't trust my legs to take me to Barts now for a blood test. But, God, I couldn't wait so I ordered them all and they all came positive."

"Oh, Molly!" Sherlock whispered, tightly squeezing her hand.

Finally, Molly raised her eyes to meet his, "I am pregnant, Sherlock. We are going to be parents." she said softly, though her voice was laced with vulnerability and insecurity.

The dark shadow of a previous pregnancy loomed over them. An innocent soul that they lost before they even knew of it. The doctor said sometimes it happened with unknown reasons, especially as both parents were healthy.

For months, they started re-taking precautions because the pain was still too raw for them to even think of trying again. But, after six months, they decided they were both ready, emotionally and physically, for another one. And here they were, two more months later.

"I don't want to lose this one, too." Molly continued, feeling too weak to even raise her free hand and wipe away the stray tear that fell on her pale cheek.

"You won't, sweetheart. We won't." Sherlock added quickly, moving slightly so that he can take her in his arms.

"We will do everything we can to keep you and our baby safe." Sherlock said soothingly, tightening his arms around her and kissing her hair as she buried her head in his chest.

"But what if…." Molly said in a low frightened voice.

Sherlock interrupted her question, pulling away to look at her firmly, "Hey! You didn't do anything wrong. Do you understand me? You are not to be blamed for what happened before. And now we have this and that's what we need to focus on."

"Okay." Molly murmured, lowering her eyes to her hand that was holding one of the pregnancy tests preciously.

"Besides. That would be a priceless opportunity to start my observations." Sherlock continued.

"What?" Molly cried, instantly lifting her eyes to glare at him.

"My observations of your different mood swings and the baby's responses to different….."

"Complete that sentence and you are sleeping on the couch for the next eight months." Molly stated coldly. Gone was the scared vulnerable woman.

"But…." Sherlock stumbled.

"_**I am not an experiment, Sherlock**_. Neither is our child." Molly proclaimed angrily.

"But they are merely observations." Sherlock protested weakly, though deep inside, he was happy his words broke Molly out of her sad state.

Molly bit her lip, then said amusingly, shrugging her shoulders, "Only if you include me."

Sherlock smiled proudly, then leaned to kiss her, but she stopped him with her palm on his chest, "As a partner. Not a test subject." She said warningly, though the warning was mixed with a teasing smile.

"Noted. Who would turn down an offer to have such a partner?" Sherlock said, gently moving her hand from his chest and kissing her palm affectionately, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Cute. Smart. Clever. Beautiful." he continued, punctuating every word of praise with a kiss on her cheeks, nose and chin.

"And above all, the woman I love." and he leaned to finally kiss her deeply, both losing themselves in their happiness with the new chance, surrounded by the proof of the new life they created together.

* * *

And that is a wrap!

I admit I was waaaaaaaay behind schedule and the challenge was over like 2 weeks ago, but I really wanted to finish it :)

Thanks for everyone who read my stories and spared a little of their time writing a comment, following or adding the series to their favorites. 😘


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